


Nothing I Can Do

by NightMuse



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:17:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightMuse/pseuds/NightMuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles needs some one to talk to, more than ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing I Can Do

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to make this as Canon as humanly possible while writing a fanfiction. If you feel something is off please let me know and I will try to work it out in future chapters. 
> 
> 4-22-14 ~ Edited and revised  
> Chapter 2 will possibly becoming soon!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter One revised and semi rewritten.**
> 
> Stiles needs someone to talk to more than ever.

   The scent of the dead leaves on the forest floor wrapped around Stiles as he made his way out to the charred ruins of the Hale house. He didn't have a reason to be seeking Derek out, hell, he wasn't sure he wanted to find him here, not completely anyway. But that had always been one of Stiles’ weak points. He didn't think things through to the point where he made plans for the worst possible outcome, he just kind of awkwardly worked his way through it as it happened and so far, _somehow_ managed to stay alive. He really didn't know how he was alive. He looked over the house, still pretty majestic despite the fact that it had burned down or maybe that was why, charred but still standing. The house was admirable. Stiles wished he could be more like Derek's house as he looked at it, until his eyes landed on the front door and the disconcerting symbol spray painted on it. That simple scrawl of angles and lines that seemed to bleed black blood on the door scared the hell out of him. Something was coming and it was impossible for any of them to know how bad it would be. All at once everything he’d managed to survive hit him like a brick to the chest and suddenly he could barely breathe as a semi panic attack washed over him. It still wasn't over... It quite possibly would never be over. After a few minutes of trying to calm his mind and his breathing back down, he sat down on the front steps of the old house. Stiles rested his face in his hands and sighed, tapping his foot, trying to think for once; after all he’d done to avoid exactly this. Thinking. He needed to think, needed to figure out where he stood in all of this. So many people had died. People they once went to school with, and while Stiles had flat out said that he didn't feel bad for Matt, and he truly didn't; it didn't change the fact that he was dead. It didn't change the fact that all those people had died. Though he had no part in their actual deaths, they weighed on him. Heavily. If maybe.. he hadn't gone looking for trouble. Maybe some of them would still be alive, Scott would be normal, but it was too late for that now and Stiles felt like it was all his fault.

   “People are going to keep dying aren't they?” he breathed out, his voice shaking as he spoke out loud, his eyes darting from side to side and then down, as he hung his head, to where his arms were resting on his knees, his right hand gently cupping his left, his fingers twitching as he fidgeted with nothing in particular.  After all, he wasn't sure if he wanted a response or not. Maybe it would be okay simply talking into the dead silence. Silence couldn't answer his questions though.

Derek watched his back, the way Stiles ran his hands over his face as he exhaled and also the way his shoulders were hunched over. This wasn't the usual spastic Stiles he’d gotten so used to dealing with. He’d forgotten what a burden all of this could be to a human; it’d been a while since he actually had a human ally. Lately, he’d just been trying to create his allies, he hadn't really acknowledged Stiles as an ally, yet as Derek thought of it now, Stiles was one of the most reliable people he’d been around in a while. A few moments had passed and Derek glanced at the symbol on his door.

   “I’m working on a plan so that they don’t...” he said finally, his voice was that usual, rough and almost raspy growl, but there was a softer undertone in it. Stiles still jumped, although his normal spastic movements absent, he did nod though, keeping his hands on his face, breathing in calculated breaths. 

   “Thanks.” Stiles said blankly, unconvinced. Then he just started talking, like he so badly needed to, he didn't care if Derek didn't want to hear it. He could walk away for all Stiles cared at this point. “You know, some nights I wonder if I had kept my curiosity in check that first night if we’d all be able to have semi-normal lives.” He said in to the warm air, watching a squirrel scurrying up a tree in the distance.

Derek snorted.

   “You might have, Scott might have.” Was his reply. Yet, instead of the reaction he was expecting, Stiles’ shoulders sank further.

   “It’s always been my fault that Scott was turned.” He said, an unprecedented amount of pain in his voice that Derek had never heard before. He didn’t even know that ‘Not Annoying’ was a setting Stiles even had. Stiles continued. “If I had not gone out that night and let Scott stay home would everything be different?” he asked, for once completely serious, and for that Derek was grateful, well sort of.

Derek sat on the step beside him, the charred stair giving a small groan under the weight of both of them. Stiles glanced over for a second before looking away again, Derek now catching a glimpse of his red rimmed eyes.

   “Well, Let’s see, had you not been involved in this, my family still would have burned, Peter would have still killed Laura and attacked people; the Argent’s would have still tried to kill me. I would have still had to deal with Kate-“ His expression looked pained for a split second, not even long enough for Stiles to catch it. “…Who was also trying to kill me, mind you. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica would probably have still been turned, Jackson not so much.. I guess.. Since he was clued in by Scott’s annoying habit of not knowing how to listen, ever.“ He kept thinking and then shrugged. “That bullet would have killed me without you and Scott involved, the times where you harbored me so I wouldn't get caught…”

Stiles’ back straightened a bit and he looked back at Derek.

   “Not much would have changed at all.” Stiles said blankly.

Derek’s jaw tightened and he stood up and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.

   “Something would have. I would be dead.” He said, detaching himself from the situation at hand as he realized what he had said.

   “So why’d you come here?” he asked, crossing his arms across his broad chest. Stiles, eyes following Derek as he moved back up to stand on the porch next to the front windows, shrugged as he turned back around. 

   “I honestly don’t know.” he murmured. “It’s just been tough lately, with everything that’s going on… Normally, I’d have gone to Scott’s for this sort of thing, but I’m losing him to Allison, despite the fact that her family is all kinds of bat shit crazy and she certainly isn't falling too far away from the tree.” he sighed and ran his hands through his short hair. “I mean... he knows what she did to Erica and Boyd. She went crazy on them!” he put his hands over his mouth and sighed, staring straight ahead, he’d picked a favorite tree to look at, it had really pretty moss on the trunk and looked like something out of a fairy tale, not one of those cute ones either, one of those horrific ones that doesn't have a happy ending. Just like everything else felt lately. “And yet he would still choose her over any of us any day.”

Derek’s eyes darkened though he stayed perfectly silent and still, simply listening, which was exactly what Stiles needed, and Derek sensed that.

   “It’s like... He doesn't realize the things I have done for him.. The trouble I've gotten myself in to, the ways I've lied to my father, and God I hate doing that… but I do it to protect him... To protect what he is you know? Everyone else falls in to that category too. Simply because it’s my fault. It is my fault. I've accepted that. It’s fine, but...” Derek shifted slightly as Stiles paused and took a deep breath and listened to the way he tried to calm himself down. He could smell the guilt on him. “When is it enough though? When can I say that I can’t do it anymore, when is it fair for me to stop feeling bad? I mean, Scott seems happier now anyway.”

Derek leaned against the column near the steps, his back to Stiles and Stiles’ back to him, both silent. Derek sighed and shook his head.

   “You’re asking me, of all people how to rid yourself of guilt? Are you serious?” he said finally, a growl rising in his throat. “If I knew that; do you think I would be lingering here?” He asked, and though Stiles’ back was to him he motioned to the charred remains of what was once a pleasant home, a decent life. One he longed to have back, though he knew that Stiles hadn't meant it like that, he just wasn't used to being talked to like this anymore. Stiles closed his eyes and his head sank farther in to his hands and Derek regretted the way he’d snapped. He’d be damned if he couldn't be more gentle..

   “I didn't mean it like that.” he said quietly. “I would have said that out loud even if you hadn't been here to hear me.. I think. I think I would have done that.. I think that’s why I came..” he fell short, took another deep breath, ran his hands over his face and shook his head. “No.. you know what.. I’m fine.. this.. helped.. a lot. Thanks, Derek.” He said, the sarcastic tone back in his voice as he stood up, his voice hitching up in to the higher pitched tone as he lied, beginning to walk back through the leaves to where he had parked his Jeep. Derek’s chin tilting up as he heard the change and he turned around to look at Stiles.

   “You’re doing it again.” He murmured, causing Stiles to stop in is tracks.

    “Doing what?” he asked, toeing the leaves aside until the tip of his sneakers hit dirt. He knew exactly what he was doing. He’d done it almost every day, several times a day since his mother died.

   “Running away from things you need to say. I saw you use the same thing on your father once.” He crossed his arms again and stared daggers in to Stiles’ back. Stiles could feel it too, and it made a bit of heat creep over his pale skin, especially his ears.

   “I-I’m not running.. I’m trying to figure things out is all..” He said, his voice shaking, even worse since he knew Derek could hear his lies, it made him feel so fucking naked. He’s never had anyone call him out on his weakness before, the one thing he could fall back on to protect himself in any situation. No one could usually tell. Unless the person could literally hear his heart breaking inside his chest.

  
   “I’m weak, you know? Human to be exact. Which if you haven’t noticed is a bit of a rarity now.” he groaned quietly and his shoulders sank down in that heavy, burdened way. “I can’t do anything to protect the people most important to me. The most I can do is try to make my dad eat healthier and that isn't going well either.” His hands ran up over his face and through his hair, it was longer now, so much had been going on he’d never made time to get it cut. Though he liked it this way, he felt older with it like this. “I was trying to help my dad the night Matt had locked us all in the police station. Trying to get his damn badge back because it was my fault he lost it. I insisted we should go, thought I could help. That was all on me and that time I even got Mrs. McCall and you involved in the mess I made.” He put the crook of his arm over his eyes and his voice was thick. “I watched Matt crack my dad’s head open and I couldn't do anything.. There was no way I could ever have taken him on to avenge my father…” he wiped his eyes and then held his arm there. “He’s all I have left because even Scott.. I’m losing him, not even just to Allison… Scott made-out with Lydia in the office... He said she kissed him even… and he didn't stop it.” His voice sounded choked now. “He said he’d ask her if she liked me, did you know that? He was going to do that for me, but ended up lying to my face. That hurt so much, knowing what had happened and having to act like I didn't because I know he needed me. I’m surrounded by so many people I’m involved with but I've never honestly felt so alone.”

Derek’s eyes lowered and he nodded.  
   

   “I know a bit about feeling like that.” He said quietly. Though to Stiles it was the loudest thing Derek had ever said, and it echoed in his head in the following silence as he thought about it. Derek had been alone too. 

   “I don’t know how you do it without breaking down," Stiles began.  "I don’t know what to do… I feel like I need to protect all of you, I want to and I know I can’t. Everyone keeps getting hurt.” He said finally, wiping his eyes before he turned around, meeting Derek’s eyes. His own even more red-rimmed than before. “I never know when one of you will die for real so I have to keep saying it each time to make myself immune to it. ‘Leave him, he’s dead.’ You heard me say that, I know you did.” He shook his head, for the first time in forever his eyes actually showing all of the pain that was pent up inside of his small frame “I didn't mean it, I was praying for it not to be true. I hope you also heard that.” He said, tapping his chest twice right over his heart.

Derek didn't appear phased by the confession, but in all actuality he was stunned. This stupid kid had a way of messing him up and made him wish he could let go of the revenge he sought and start over new, but he knew it wasn't possible. After he reached his goals and the new threats passed, perhaps he could.  

Instead of replying, he moved towards Stiles, looking menacing as usual, causing Stiles to put his hands up in a poor attempt at defending himself as Derek grabbed Stiles’ hood and drag him back to the step to sit, earning a few more in-character reactions, such as exaggerated movements as he caught himself to prevent falling.

   “Oh great..” he whined. “You’re going to kill me now aren't you, aw, man come on.. Haven’t there been enough deaths this week?” He faked a whimper when he found himself plopped back on the stair and looked around to see Derek, somehow standing in front of him now. He knew Derek wouldn't hurt him at this point, but the way he was always so fucking stoic one could never truly know.

   “First off,” Derek started, pointing a finger at Stiles, his face deadly serious. “You have no reason to feel guilty about Scott being turned. You didn't know that there was going to be a werewolf out there.”

Stiles just looked up to him blankly.

  
   “I went out looking for a dead body..” he said with an exhausted sigh. “One that was presumably murdered very gruesomely.”

Derek seemed taken aback for a second and he looked in to Stile’s eyes, his eyes darting back and forth between both of Stiles’. He shook it off and rolled his eyes, his finger still pointed, his eyebrows raised pointedly.

  
   “Second off, stop keeping all of this crap inside until you feel like this. You may not be a wolf but you are part of the pack.” He kept his gaze locked with Stiles’ bloodshot one and added very slowly. “Aside from Isaac, you’re the only one who hasn't tried to leave. You've helped so much. Saved my life, saved Scott’s. Hell, Stiles, do you think Scott would have ever figured out what was happening to him if you hadn't figured it out? You taught him the dangers of this far before I even had that chance. You taught him to control it. For a human that's nothing short of amazing.”

Stiles stared back, his eyes darting around Derek’s face, his eyes, down his nose, over his lips until he realized where his thoughts were going and forced himself to focus on his eyes again.

Derek watched him, hoping it would sink in, that he wouldn't feel so alone anymore.

   "How can you say that? I was the first in line to throw you away before.” Stiles said finally, blinking in confusion, trying to understand why Derek seemed like he honestly wanted to help.

   “I can say it because you came to me when you needed someone the most.” He replied, dead serious but also kind.

It was then that Stiles finally understood Derek a bit more. That he wasn't trying to be evil by creating the pack, that he wasn't doing it for power as much as he was doing it so he wouldn't be alone anymore. It hadn't even occurred to Stiles that Derek hadn't had time to mourn his sister’s death and that was mostly his fault too. He opened his mouth several times and his eyes fluttered open and shut as he tried to think of something to say, finally he settled with the first thing that came to mind.

   “I’m sor-mmph” he was silenced instantly by Derek’s palm against his lips causing Stiles' eyes to widen. 

  
   “Stop that.” Derek growled. “Guilt smells bad on you.”


End file.
